


It's Good To Hear Your Voice

by AnotherStoryMustBegin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety Disorder, But they get there in the end I promise, Eventual Smut, Exams, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Phone Calls & Telephones, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, a ludicrous level of miscommunication, after being idiots for a good long while, jealous!yuuri, like seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherStoryMustBegin/pseuds/AnotherStoryMustBegin
Summary: Whatever Yuuri expected when agreeing to volunteer for the Student Nightline service, being woken by a call from campus Living Legend Victor Nikiforov had never once crossed his mind.But then again, the world works in mysterious ways...Chapter Theme





	1. First Day Of My Life

“Please, Yuuri! It’s only for one night. One shift, that’s all I ask.” Phichit had been mooning about this audition since the skate club’s summer review was announced – much to Yuuri’s own frustration as is friend seemed hell-bent on steering every conversation that way – but dates had only just been announced. When it turned out that none of the other volunteers could cover his shift, he had turned to his best friend. Yuuri knew what it meant to him…

Still, he looked a little doubtful. Yuuri had signed up with the Student Nightline service himself with Phichit during Orientation Week in their first semester, but he had second thoughts when his own workload hit its peak. As much as he wanted to get involved, Yuuri had promised himself and his family that he was going to achieve high grades. High grades meant hard work.

And hard work meant extracurricular activities had to wait.

He’d had the same dilemma with skating too. Phichit had tried, quite literally, to drag him along to try-outs earlier in the year, but Yuuri had dug his heels in. He had never been the best at mixing with new people, they both knew that much, but it was about more than that. Yuuri could practically skate before he could walk. He loved the ice, lived for it. He dreamt up new routines in his sleep.

But that was just the problem… Yuuri Katsuki didn’t know how to do things half-heartedly. He would devote himself to it, mind body and soul, just like he always had. Skating was his passion, but he wasn’t at university to skate. He still attended events where Phichit was concerned, still cheered him with all his heart from high up in the stands, still admired the talent of the skate club captain Victor Nikiforov from afar… but that was as far as he let his involvement go.

Learning came ahead of skating, and Nightline was no different.

That was what Yuuri told himself, anyway, as he summoned a response at last, “I still need to do my required readings for Monday-” He tried weakly, but Phichit was too quick.

“Read them while you’re there!” Phichit said simply, “There’s a lot of desk space. Just make sure that you save that for when nobody’s ringing, so you’re not distracted. I know how you can get when you’re studying,” he chided with a grin. “Plus, it’s not as if the line is overrun with calls.”

Yuuri sighed and shot him a gentle glare. It wasn’t even worth fighting it, “What time does it start?”

Phichit’s beam was triumphant.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri squinted up at the halogen light’s glare above him with a sigh. Outside the office everyone on campus slept into Saturday morning, aside from the faint hubbub of student partygoers and traffic. Staring up into the bright fluorescence was all Yuuri could do to keep his eyes from drifting closed.

He sighed, sinking down in his chair and casting a glare at the silent phone and the glossy advice pamphlets strewn about the desktop around it. He spotted a few he recognized; one in a peachy pink, long out-of-date, entitled ‘ _ANXIETY?_ It Could Happen To _You!_ ’ Phichit had developed an annoying habit of ‘accidentally forgetting’ them at his halls of residence when he came round. It took all Yuuri’s will not to cringe whenever he spied a new one tucked away somewhere. He’d even found a flyer about stress folded into his shoes once during midterms. He knew it was Phichit’s way of showing his concern, and for that at least Yuuri appreciated it.

It had been a long night at the helpline. A quiet one too, Yuuri thought. The few calls he received had gone smoothly enough. He had listened to all manner of issues, from exam stress to relationship troubles to family crises.

He had to admit, it did feel nice to know he was helping people. If all it took was a little advice, encouragement, or just a friendly ear to listen, Yuuri was glad to do what he could. It made his inner altruist purr.

Now that he thought about it, he had always been a better listener than a talker.

By the time the red digits on the clock had flicked to 2:00 AM, though, Yuuri didn’t think he would last much longer. The night’s calls had all but dried up, and what work he’d brought with him was long since finished. He was fresh out of distractions. He swore he could almost feel his brain atrophying with each minute of radio silence that filled the room. At this rate some poor janitor would rock up the next morning and find a puddle of exhaustion on the floor to mop up, all the while grumbling something like _“Tsk. Perks of the job.”_

His eyelids were feeling heavier, and he let his head drop down against the desk, cheek resting on a few Bereavement pamphlets like a pillow. _Just a few minutes, that’s all_ , he thought as his mind began to disengage. _Then I’ll feel better… yeah, sleep sounds really good right now…_

Yuuri didn’t know how long he’d been out for the count when he was met by a harsh ringing in his ears coming through his headset. He shot upright with a yelp, fumbling for the button to connect the call with one hand while the other scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes. That was one way to wake up.

“Wh-HELLO! Hello, is th- Uh...” he stammered, face growing hot and adjusting his glasses as words failed him. Something seemed to be booting up in his brain, at least, as his next words came out a lot less jumbled, “Sorry, uh…Hello, you’ve reached the Student Nightline, how may I help you?”

It wasn’t until Yuuri’s ramble was over that the voice at the other end started to laugh, though not unkindly _, “I take it I woke you? Sorry about that.”_ Yuuri could hear the smile in his voice. It was warm and friendly, with a European accent he couldn’t quite place. They were at a renowned international university, though, so he’d at least come to expect a wide array of dialects.

He was blushing more furiously than ever now, though, and thanked high heaven that where was no audible sign of such, “I’m the one who should be apologizing! That was so unprofessional of me,” he sighed, nervously adjusting his glasses. Phichit would scold him if he found out and blame his work ethic yet again. Yuuri couldn’t even deny it, really.

 _“That’s alright! This can wait, if I’m keeping you up?”_ the stranger offered kindly.

“No! No please, I’m wide awake, I promise,” Yuuri insisted, trying at least to convince the other person even if his own brain wasn’t so easily swayed.

_“So how does this thing work?”_

Yuuri narrowed his eyes perplexed, “It’s a phone?” he said slowly, sleepily. He threw in a dash of sarcasm for good measure, “You talk into it and it turns your voice into electric signals which ge-”

Another laugh came from the voice at the other end, _“No no, this. Nightline.”_

“Hmm,” Yuuri scratched his nose thoughtfully. It seemed someone else was new to this too, “Well how about you start by telling me why you called,” he suggested.

 _“Huh? Oh yeah,”_ They sounded so unsure. Yuuri wondered if they’d forgotten their intention even before dialling the number, _“I guess I couldn’t sleep. Maybe you could give me lessons.”_

“Do you want my help or not?” Yuuri smirked.

_“It’s why I rang.”_

Yuuri rolled his eyes, “Is there a reason you can’t sleep?”

 _“I guess…”_ they seemed to be pondering how best to word their predicament, _“a lack of purpose?”_ they settled on, though even then they sounded uncertain. Yuuri nodded to himself and cleared his throat. This was something he could work with.

“In life, you mean?”

They hummed an affirmative, _“Things that should make me happy, that I’m good at…”_ they trailed off, lost for how to finish the thought. Once it was clear they weren’t saying anything further, Yuuri spoke.

“You’re not enjoying them like you used to?” Yuuri asked gently.

 _“I don’t know. I think…”_ they paused, _“The thrill has gone. Or the inspiration... one or the other. There was something tonight that it’s my job to manage, but I couldn’t face it. I lied, told them I wasn’t feeling well …”_ they sighed, exasperated.

“There’s no shame in taking a break from something you love, you know,” Yuuri said, “It doesn’t mean you love it any less. Those things can suffocate you if you don’t allow yourself breathing space sometimes,” he reasoned. He didn’t know what the caller was referring to, but his point was universal. Yuuri knew it all too well himself, that vacuum feeling.

_“You think?”_

“Mmhmm,” Yuuri smiled sympathetically.

_“I just think people have come to expect one version of me, one that’s happy and successful and…that’s not always who I am. What they don’t see is that I’m just… drifting.”_

“Drifting?” Yuuri prompted, interested by the choice of word.

_“Mm. I’m not sure what I want anymore. All I see is what everyone else wants, so I run away.”_

“Like tonight?”

_“Like tonight.”_

“Can I ask, what drew you to your passion in the first place? Whatever it is…” Yuuri asked curiously.

 _“Oh, skating? I thought I mentioned that,”_ The voice said absently, and Yuuri sat upright in his chair. What were the chances of that, he thought bewilderedly _. “I’ve done it since childhood. It used to be how I expressed myself, you know, baring my feelings out on the ice, but I think I forgot that… somewhere along the way.”_

“And why is that?” Yuuri frowned. He couldn’t help but think of his own situation as the stranger spoke. Yuuri held the same passion, the same love for it, but one that he denied himself. He tried to ignore his longing for the ice, while this person was searching for their own lost passion. He wasn’t sure who had the worst predicament.

“ _I got good I suppose,_ ” they laughed, though it wasn’t a very cheerful sound, “ _People began to take notice of me. Suddenly it wasn’t just me and the ice… it was me, the ice, and people around the rink all shouting and cheering. It became about gaining their approval.”_

“And eventually?”

There was a deep sigh, “ _Eventually I stopped caring_.” There was silence for a minute before the stranger spoke, voice carefully light once again, “ _Aaaand scene. That’s everything, I guess.”_

“That must be quite lonely,” Yuuri guessed, brows pinched in concern as he waited for a response.

“ _Yeah. You could say that_ ,” they said, followed by another humourless laugh.

“I don’t know if this brings you any comfort, but I am too,” Yuuri admitted, surprised as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“ _Why would that bring me comfort?_ ” The voice sounded baffled, “I wouldn’t wish this on you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“ _What, then?_ ”

“How can a person avoid feeling lonely?” Yuuri pressed.

“ _Don’t grow up,_ ” they muttered.

“Be serious, come on,” he continued to press.

“ _Interact with other people?_ ” They replied uncertainly.

“And what are we doing right now?”

“ _Oh_ …” They laughed, “ _But that’s different. It’s your job to listen to people like me. You don’t know me from Adam…_ ”

“That’s not the point. To be lonely you have to be by yourself, or with people who don’t understand, but you aren’t. Stranger or not, you have me here, don’t you?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” their voice had grown softer, more thoughtful, “ _Yeah I guess I do._ ”

“I think you need to cut yourself a little more slack, honestly,” Yuuri smiled amused, “You’re still growing, and things like this will come and go. But if you’re honest with yourself, and listen to your heart, then you’ll be better off than most,” Yuuri said firmly. _Better off than me_ , he tried not to think.

 _“Can I ask your name?”_ they asked, sounding hopeful.

“Sorry, ah, we’re not allowed to give out our names,” Yuuri blushed, “It’s our confidentiality policy.”

 _“Oh okay. What should I call you, then?”_ They asked eagerly, and Yuuri paused to think. No one had asked before, but surely a pseudonym wasn’t breaking the rules…?

“Katsudon,” Yuuri blurted out. It was the first thing that came to mind.

_“I’m sorry?”_

“You can call me that,” Yuuri mumbled, “Katsudon…If you need a name for me.”

The line went silent for a while. Yuuri wondered whether the connection had cut, frowning as he examined the switchboard. His face was aflame with embarrassment. Had he scared him off? When he next spoke into the microphone it was hesitant,

“Hello? Still with me?”

_“Victor.”_

“Huh?”

_“My name, it’s Victor. Victor Nikiforov.”_

Oh.

Oh _shit._

 _“Oh! Am I not supposed to tell you either? Sorry! See I don’t think sometimes, my coach Yakov is al-”_ Victor had begun to ramble while Yuuri was still regaining the power of speech. It was taking some time.

“No! No it’s fine,” he managed to get out eventually, breath catching the tail of the words. He felt a small smile creep across his face.

Yuuri had first seen Victor Nikiforov skate at Phichit’s debut competition on campus, and he hadn’t been able to look away since. It had rooted him to the spot. Victor had stood in a cone of pale blue light, illuminated and silent as a statue. But then the opening bars sounded and he began to move, lithe frame tilting and spinning into each move with as much control as one might have over the rise and fall of their breathing. His blades hissed across the ice and the crowd seemed to hold its breath for every toe jump and extension. Each movement was deliberate, precise, and each element of his performance connected together with a confident sweep of the stage. _His_ stage.

The spectacle had left Yuuri breathless, giddy with renewed love for the craft and intrigue at its silver-haired vessel. It was an intrigue that had only grown thereafter.

And here he was, months later. Victor Nikiforov, third year, captain of the skate club, loved and adored by all… he was speaking to Yuuri, knew who he was!

Only… only he didn’t. Victor wasn’t talking to Yuuri the person, or Yuuri the friend, he hastened to remind himself. He was talking to Yuuri the anonymous listener. Yuuri was just doing his job, that’s as far as it went.

Yuuri had been so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t catch the next words which came,

_“Hey, Katsudon?”_

“Y-yes?” Yuuri asked. Why did he have to pick such a silly name?

_“Thanks.”_

Yuuri smiled, “You’re welcome, Victor.”

 

* * *

 

 

Phichit found Yuuri with his nose in a library textbook the next day, tired eyes struggling to focus on the small text of the page. He had read the same line at least ten times, but still couldn’t tell you what it meant if you asked him. Phichit ran his fingers through his dark hair comfortingly as he slid into the seat beside him, and Yuuri leant into the touch with a sleepy hum.

“Long night saving the world?”

“You could say that. How did your audition go?”

“Great! Nikiforov was a no-show, though,” he said.

Yuuri bit his lip. He wished he could tell his friend about the night before, but he knew that wasn’t fair. Victor or not, he had called in confidence.

But Phichit was sharper than that, “Something’s up.” It wasn’t a question.

“No it’s not.”

Phichit rolled his eyes, “You’re a terrible liar, Yuuri.”

“You wound me,” he said, clutching a hand to his chest in mock offence.

“Good or bad?”

“What?”

“At least tell me if it’s good or bad.”

“Good I guess?” Yuuri said thoughtfully.

Phichit must have been satisfied with the answer as he didn’t push for any more answers. Yuuri would have felt relieved, if Phichit hadn’t struck up an equally unfavourable topic straight afterwards.

“You’re not going to like me for saying this but-”

_Here it comes…_

“You should have been there yesterday. They would have loved you, the skate club.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri sighed, but he wasn’t finished.

“ _I know_ , I know, but what you’re doing? It’s not healthy, Yuuri. You’re going to hurt yourself eventually if you don’t take a break now and then.”

Yuuri didn’t have to glance up to know Phichit was wearing his worry face, knitted into a disapproving frown. He felt his heart begin to flutter in panic, and opted to stare at the wooden table-top instead, tracing the shapes in the grain with his eye line. He stayed silent in response as his heart raced. It was safer that way.

Phichit paused for a moment before sighing. His frustration was still there, but softened somehow, “I’m not mad at you, you know that, right?” A little nod came as the response, “But you’re capable of so much, Yuuri, more than you give yourself credit for.”

“…I’ll think about Nightline,” he mumbled. It seemed like a reasonable compromise. A bearable one, at the very least.

“Really?” Phichit beamed.

“That’s not a verbal contract, before you start getting ideas.”

Phichit’s smug look didn’t falter, though. It may not have been a verbal contract, but it was a small victory at least.

“Yuuri?”

“What now?” he groaned.

“Any plans for next Friday?”

 

* * *

 

That was how Yuuri found himself back in the cramped Nightline office, tapping his pen against a difficult problem in his workbook whenever he wasn’t fielding calls. The line was once again quiet, but Yuuri didn’t especially mind. He had held a few pleasant conversations with callers, tried to help as best he could. The later hours were again a struggle, but the atmosphere was lighter, pensive somehow. Yuuri had always enjoyed his own company.

This time when Victor rang Yuuri wasn’t asleep. He liked to think that was progress. He stared at the ‘INCOMING CALL’ text that lit the screen and, as he had for each of the evening’s calls, squashed down the little hopeful part of him as he picked up the receiver.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Student Nightline, how may I help you?”

 _“You’re getting better at this, Katsudon!”_ came the teasing greeting.

Yuuri didn’t even try and fight back his smile, “Let’s just say you caught me on a bad day yesterday. Still a night owl then?” he joked, glancing at the clock.

_“The only and only!”_

 “To what do I owe the pleasure this time then, Victor?” Yuuri asked.

_“I don’t know, really. I guess I fancied a chat more than the alternative.”_

“What’s the alternative?”

_“Some party. I only showed my face briefly. One of the Canadian skaters… made himself a theme song for the occasion, if you can believe that.”_

“Wow, what’s his name?”

_“I forget.”_

Yuuri laughed, “Well it must be bad for you to prefer my company,” he smiled abashed.

 _“Not at all! You’re my compass of stability, after all”_ he shot back immediately, and he sounded so painfully genuine that Yuuri’s nervous inner saboteur stayed quiet for a change.

“Well I’m flattered all the same,” he said amusedly, “Are you feeling any better this week?”

_“A lot, thank you. I’m going to do what you said, take it one step at a time.”_

“I’m glad it helped,” Yuuri smiled.

 _“What about you, then?”_ Victor asked, and Yuuri frowned, not sure he quite understood.

“What about me?”

 _“How has your week been?”_ Victor asked with interest.

Yuuri blinked a little off-guard. He didn’t take much time to consider things like that, not really. It was only polite small talk, though, so he opted for a suitably generic answer to match.

“Fine, thanks,” he said lightly, but Victor pressed further.

_“You said before you understood how I was feeling, didn’t you?”_

“I…” Yuuri paused before answering, “I guess I did. But this is meant to be about you, I’m just here to listen-”

 _“Hey! No, you don’t get to do that,”_ Victor’s voice was determined now, _“You helped me, Katsudon, so let me return the favour.”_

Yuuri was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Or more accurately, he was unsure why Victor sounded so interested. Yuuri –whose name he didn’t even know, let alone anything about him– wasn’t worth his attention. He was a neutral party providing a service. All he was doing was holding up a mirror for Victor to see the answers himself.

The line must have been silent for a while, as Yuuri heard Victor scrambling to elaborate before he had come up with a response of his own, _“Not that you need to! I just thought… I’d like to get to know you too, since I’ve told you a lot about me...”_ He explained, sounding nervous.

Yuuri swallowed, “What do you want to know?”

 _“Your real name, for a start,”_ he teased with a laugh, _“Tell me a little about yourself! Passions, hobbies, anything you like,”_ he sounded so interested that it made Yuuri’s heart clench.

“I, um…” he stammered, adjusting his glasses as he felt his face grow hot. What was there to say? Yuuri didn’t really do pastimes, not now anyway, “I study?” he tried.

“ _What year?”_

“First.”

Victor laughed, _“That sets you apart from a lot of fresher’s then. I can’t say I spent much of my first year working,”_ he added sheepishly, fondly it sounded. Yuuri laughed at this, all too familiar with the stories. Victor’s reputation preceded him on campus.

_“What about when you aren’t studying then? How do you spend your time?”_

“I…I don’t” Yuuri admitted quietly.

 _“You don’t…?”_ Victor repeated, clearly searching for the nonexistent end to that sentence.

Yuuri sighed. Here it came, “I just study. That’s it,” he mumbled, words coming out quickly like a confession. He held his breath as he waited for the usual Phichit lecture.

 _“What about friendships?”_ he asked, sounding concerned. Yuuri wished he wouldn’t.

 “Oh yeah, a few…I have one friend I spend a lot of time with,” he purposefully avoided Phichit’s name.

 _“And what do they think about your work ethic_?” Victor asked curiously.

Yuuri sighed, “He thinks I put too much pressure on myself. He’s forever trying to get me involved in clubs and societies.”

 _“Which ones would you want to join?”_ Victor asked curiously _“If you had the time,”_ he hastened to add.

Yuuri didn’t want to lie to him. His mother used to say that a lie by omission was still a lie, but Yuuri normally didn’t feel too bad about keeping details sketchy. That only got you so far, however, and here he was being asked directly.

Honesty couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Nightline, obviously…I’m only covering shifts at the minute, though I would like to do more.”

 _“I hope you do. You’re very good at it,”_ Victor chuckled and Yuuri smiled, encouraged.

“I thought about joining the skate club at one point too…”

 _“You did?”_ Victor’s response was immediate, and Yuuri could tell the other man was delighted, _“Have you skated before?”_

“I did it a lot while growing up. I stopped when I came to college though so I could focus on my grades.”

_“Did you enjoy it?”_

“Loved it,” Yuuri smiled sadly, “I used to compete in local competitions now and then. I took it all pretty seriously,” he admits. He felt embarrassed to be telling him this but Victor had been the one to ask, he reminded himself. Skating had always spoken to him. Even now it didn’t stop calling to him. Yuuri had just learned not to listen.

_“I was the same. I fell in love with the ice as a child and nothing made me happier. And I’ve met so many amazing people through it, especially at the club. Until recently it was my form of therapy. Still is, in fact… when it’s not about surprising people.”_

“How do you manage it?” Yuuri blurted out, not quite sure why he was asking “Your skating, your degree… how do you find a balance?”

 _“Honestly? I don’t,”_ he laughed and Yuuri frowned, _“I commit almost everything to the ice. Sure, I don’t let myself fail my modules, but I know what I love to do and I listen to that instinct. It’s not easy running from passion.”_ Yuuri sighed, knowing that all too well. Perhaps he could allow himself to get involved, just a little.

Then came Victor’s voice again, words a little more hopeful now _“Would you ever consider signing up for the club again?”_ Well that was just eerie, Yuuri thought. “ _A lot of people still get involved with low level commitment. We’d love to have another seasoned skater in the ranks.”_

Yuuri flushed, “I’ll have to think about it…” Yuuri murmured uncertainly. He couldn’t let him get sidetracked of course, but Victor was right. Skating was more than just a distraction. It was therapy.

 _“See that you do!”_ Victor said firmly, sounding his confident self again, _“We would be able to meet each other too, that way.”_

“I’d like that,” Yuuri smiled, and he truly meant it. Victor seemed to bring him out of himself, and Yuuri couldn’t see that as a bad thing.

Yuuri blinked as he heard muffled voices down the line and Victor pulling away from the receiver to reply in what sounded like garbled French.

 _“I’ve got to go. My housemate just came in messy dru- CHRIS! Arrête! Just-! Sorry, Katsudon, I’ll speak to you soon?”_ it could have been a polite conversation closer, but Victor’s tone made it sound like he was looking for an answer. Yuuri wouldn’t deny him that.

“Yes, speak to you soon. Or see you soon,” He added jokingly, and he heard Victor laugh.

_“I look forward to it.”_

There was a click as the line cut off. Yuuri was still staring at the ‘Call Ended’ screen, a small hopeful smile forming on his lips.

He turned back to his work, but his mind remained elsewhere. Next time, he thought. Next time Phichit went to an event, Yuuri would also attend. He would swallow his concerns and meet Victor, _introduce_ himself.

When he crashed at last in bed that night his mind was still playing over their conversation, those final words. He smiled, and shut his eyes.

_I look forward to it._

Oh, hell.


	2. Be Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAJps3JhvKA)

Yuuri’s weekend had passed in a blur of assignments and power naps. By the time Sunday rolled around he was completely spent, sinking down to his mattress with a weary sigh. He needed to be horizontal for the foreseeable future.

 

The bedroom around him was in even more disarray than usual, which was some feat. It was littered with paperwork at various degrees of completion, scattered haphazardly across every available flat surface. Phichit always bemoaned the state he left it in, but Yuuri usually paid it no heed.

 

He managed to locate his phone on the bedside table among the stacks of books. He unlocked it to find one missed call and four text messages.

 

 

> **_PHICHIT CHULANONT (1 Missed Call)_ **
> 
> **_Sunday 02 February 1:46 pm_ **

 

 

> **_PHICHIT CHULANONT: Are you alive?_ **
> 
> **_Sunday 02 February 2:01 pm_ **

 

 

> **_PHICHIT CHULANONT: Did you drown in deadlines yet?_ **
> 
> **_Sunday 02 February 2:10 pm_ **

 

 

> **_PHICHIT CHULANONT: Call me back when you can. Worried about you._ **
> 
> **_Sunday 02 February 2:33 pm_ **

 

 

> **_MINAMI KENJIROU: Hey Yuuri-kun!! How are you?? Will you come and watch me practice today? I’d love your opinion on a new routine!_ **
> 
> **_Sunday 02 February 2:56 pm_ **

 

 

Yuuri read the messages through, feeling a little familiar twist of caution in his stomach. He worried his lip between his teeth, pondering the final offer. He cast his eyes around the room, at all the unfinished things that still demanded attention. He didn’t have the time for… he stopped the thought in its tracks there. Or rather a voice in his head did, one that sounded suspiciously like Phichit.

 

_You don’t have the time for all that? Then make time!_

 

Yuuri whined piteously at his inner conflict, rolling over and burying his face in a sea of pretty throw cushions Yuuko had once bought him. He had tried to sidestep the generosity at the time but she’d insisted he needed cheerier surroundings, so he relented. He had to admit, she wasn’t wrong.

 

The same admission could be said for his inner Phichit-voice. Yuuri’s free time would forever be nonexistent if he didn’t even _try_ to juggle things. All he was doing at the moment was playing it safe, avoiding the inevitable balancing act he would be faced with. Sure it might be difficult but hey, where had Yuuri’s urge for a challenge disappeared to? He couldn’t possibly know without trying.

 

And then there was another matter, too… five little words that still rang around his head, that set his face alight with a small but hopeful smile.

 

_“I look forward to it.”_

 

Victor had wanted to meet him and Yuuri would be lying if he said he didn’t wish the same. He liked Victor a great deal, and not just out of admiration anymore. He was a nice person, and he made Yuuri feel better than much else could nowadays. For lack of a better word, even for the strange anonymity of their encounters, Yuuri would consider Victor a friend.

 

But Yuuri was a delicate soul in social matters, and the thought of rejection had him proceeding with caution. Maybe he and Victor had enjoyed each other’s company, but that had been over a phone line. Face to face? That was altogether different. Yuuri didn’t do so well face to face. Beyond all logic, and all evidence of the contrary, a nasty little seed of doubt had tucked itself away in the back on his mind: what if Yuuri was a disappointment? Victor was expecting Katsudon, and could have conjured all manner of assumptions about him from such limited contact. The real Yuuri couldn’t possibly compete with his high opinion.

 

But no matter, he thought. He was putting words into Victor’s mouth, and that wasn’t fair. Phichit warned Yuuri about getting stuck in his own head and here he was at it again. Victor had shown genuine interest in him, and Yuuri at least intended to honour that.

 

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pulling on a hoodie and tucking the phone into its pocket.

 

 _Well here goes nothing_ , he thought.

 

* * *

 

When Yuuri arrived at the rink it was bustling with life, skaters weaving and spinning around each other in a riot of colour. It didn’t take long to locate Minami with his shock of red hair, bobbing about as his practiced a jaunty step sequence with a smile painted across his face like a ray of sunshine. Yuuri smiled to himself as he continued around the barrier. He had known Minami since his school days, and it was nice to see the boy had changed so little. Minami was still Minami, bubbly and sweet and sincere to a fault.

 

Next he spotted Phichit, expression one of total concentration as he worked at a new jump, his form already more impressive than when Yuuri had seen it last. Yuuri’s steps stilled to look on fondly. He had always admired his friend’s determination and the lengths he went to better his abilities. Phichit propelled himself up into a nice triple Salchow, landing on slightly shaky footing but not enough to overbalance.

 

Something else out of the corner of Yuuri’s eye caught his attention though, his gaze turning just in time to catch a flash of silver that had his heart beating double time. He moved closer, walking over to where a flock of girls watched from the other side of the barrier as Victor ran through a routine. They all looked enthralled as Yuuri felt and he couldn’t help but smile. It seemed he wasn’t the only one after all. Nobody was safe from Victor’s charms.

 

Every flick of his hair, every arch of his back, every jerk of his waist seemed to beckon the world closer. It was captivating. His form was clean, all strong lines, his movements as free as they were disciplined and keeping perfect time with the secret thrum of Yuuri’s heart.

 

Yuuri couldn’t look away if he tried.

 

When the runthrough drew to a close the line of onlookers cheered and Victor flashed the group a radiant smile, sliding over to the barrier where some were beginning to produce paper for signing and camera phones. Yuuri kept to the end of the line, trying to work out what to say as Victor made his way down the row, talking to each person and graciously posing for photos. Should he tell him right off the bat? He could introduce himself as Katsudon, perhaps? Whatever he said a strange kind of terror-excitement tugged at his stomach, twisting the corners of his mouth into a shy smile.

 

Yuuri was still deep in thought about this when he heard a discreet little cough, almost jumping a mile. Victor was stood right in front of him, looking as if he was trying hard not to laugh as heat rushed to Yuuri’s face. _Tell him_ , his inner Phichit-voice hissed. Yuuri blinked, shaking away the daze and opening his mouth to speak, but not before Victor did.

 

“A commemorative photo?”

 

Yuuri’s hope sank like a stone as soon as the words were out there. The rational part of Yuuri’s brain knew it wasn’t a big leap in understanding for Victor to make. He had never seen Yuuri in real life, had no idea what he looked like, and here he stood with a gaggle of Victor’s fans. And Yuuri was one too, he mustn't forget. He had been since he first saw the Russian skate. But that didn’t stop it from hurting.

 

He could have explained, could have smiled and summoned an easy response. Could have laughed and made a joke of it. _“Actually I’m here to talk to you. We’ve spoken over the phone before, if you recall?”_ The words were ready on his lips, but still they remained unspoken.

 

He twisted his sleeve in his fingers, suddenly feeling very small. It had taken all Yuuri’s courage to come here in the first place, and now he was fresh out. That same fear still plagued his thoughts too: what if Yuuri was a disappointment? Yuuri was anonymous at Nightline, and could avoid the answer if he remained that way.

 

He wasn’t Victor’s friend, not really. He had no place in his world.

 

By the time Yuuri’s brain had waded through the mess of thoughts it was too late to say anything anyway. Victor was watching him perplexed by now, a look of concern flashing across his face. He was waiting for an explanation that would never come.

 

Yuuri cast him one more look, carefully blank as he reined in his distress and pulled back from the barrier. He could feel the silver-haired man’s gaze turn to follow him as he took off around the rink, shoulders hunched. Cloaked in disappointment.

 

“Yuuri, you _came_!!” came a cry and Yuuri turned his head to see Minami bounding over to him excitedly.

 

Yuuri smiled back tiredly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “hey, don’t sound so surprised. You’ve really improved, Minami, I’m impressed. You should be proud,” he said kindly as Minami beamed in delight from the other side of the barrier.

 

“Will you skate for me too while you’re here, Yuuri? Please! I’m sure someone could lend you-”

 

“Actually,” Yuuri cut across Minami’s hopeful plea. He needed to get out of here as soon as he could, “...actually I was just leaving.”

 

“Not without talking to me, you’re not!” came Phichit’s voice, this time not in Yuuri’s head. He jogged over, skates in hand and trainers on. He smiled and hugged Yuuri before pulling back to inspect him with narrowed eyes, “You’re hiding something.”

 

“Wha- no! Phichit, I’m not,” Yuuri fumbled, raising his hands in defence.

 

Phichit shook his head, “That’s not gonna work on me,” he said before sighing and patting his shoulder, “C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he declared, not missing the relief that coloured Yuuri’s face.

 

“I’ll see you round, Minami,” Yuuri waved as they headed out, linking arms.

 

“Really, Yuuri, are you okay?” Phichit murmured softly once they were through the exit. Yuuri was trying not to think too much on that matter. God, why had he thought this was a good idea?

 

“I’m fine… I’ll _be_ fine. Don’t worry, okay?”

 

Phichit huffed out a laugh, tightening his hold on Yuuri’s arm, “Easier said than done, kiddo.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri shut out the world for several days after that, leaving his flat only to attend lectures and replenish his food supply. His confidence had taken a knock and he didn’t feel like exposing the bruise again just yet.

 

Phichit had tried to lure him out several times. When he had no luck he came knocking, intent on keeping Yuuri company in his self-inflicted isolation.

 

“You’re not doing yourself any favours, you know,” Phichit said, spread out on Yuuri’s bed like a starfish as Yuuri curled up cosily into the wall beside him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Hiding. I don’t even know what you’re hiding from, but it doesn’t work like that, Yuuri,” he said quietly, turning over to face him in the dark. Yuuri was glad he wasn’t wearing his glasses under that earnest stare.

 

“What would you have me do, then?” Yuuri asked with a frown.

 

Phichit shrugged, “I don’t know, but going to the rink like that was a big thing for you. I’d hate it if that scared you off for good. You belong on the ice, Yuuri.”

 

“It’s not that,” Yuuri sighed, “I still want to go. It’s just… everyone else.” Well, not _everyone_. But Yuuri wasn’t about to explain that to Phichit.

 

Phichit hummed, mulling it over in his mind. Yuuri waited, equal parts grateful and exasperated at his best friend’s efforts. “The rink is open 24/7 you know… there’s nothing to stop you going when nobody is around?” he said slowly.

 

Yuuri paused as he considered this. It was a way of reconnecting with his love, a form of stress relief away from prying eyes. He had to admit, it sounded ideal.

 

“Phichit?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“...How does tomorrow night sound?”

 

The lights didn’t have to be on for Yuuri to know that Phichit’s grin was ear-splitting.

 

* * *

 

Phichit had offered to join Yuuri for the night, but that didn't keep him from grumbling when Yuuri woke him from his few hours of slumber.

 

“Mmm… what time is it?” he croaked, watching as Yuuri sat up and tugged on his t-shirt, jacket and scarf.

 

“2am. Let's get going,” he said, switching the bedside light on and laughing as a Phichit hissed at the brightness. He sat on the end of the bed to give him a few minutes to adjust, and when they were both ready they padded across campus to the rink.

 

Once they arrived Phichit left Yuuri to put his skates on as he slumped over the barrier, cheek resting against his folded arms. They were either too sleepy or focused to register the lone white and red jacket strewn over a seat near the entrance as they passed.

 

“Don't feel like joining me?” Yuuri called as he slid out onto the smooth surface. Phichit shook his head.

 

“Not at 2 in the morning I don't. Honestly, I don't know how you have the stamina.”

 

Yuuri grinned and began a quick warm up, gliding aimlessly for a while as he reacquainted himself with the feel of it all. It was a completely different experience when the rink was empty. The place was silent, serene, like snowfall in the middle of the night that the rest of the world hasn't woken up to yet.

 

As he began to pick up speed he found his mind wandering back to the last time he was here. The thought stung, but he pushed passed the feeling. He wasn't here to get himself more worked up. Instead of focusing on Victor, he decided to focus on the man’s skating. Yes, skating he understood. It made him feel in control. His feet came to a halt and he closed his eyes, willing himself to remember the movements from the routine he had witnessed that day. Eyes still closed his feet began to propel themselves, and soon he wasn't even thinking aboutt he next step ahead.

 

It wasn't perfect. He was sure he had forgotten moves, whole sections even. Hell, most of the quadruples became triples and even doubles, and he wasn't half as fit as Victor since his absence from the ice, but none of that mattered. He was expressing himself in a language long forgotten, and Yuuri felt good.

 

Yuuri felt _alive_!

 

When he came to a halt he turned to Phichit who, bless him, was trying his darnedest to keep his eyes open. He smiled over at Yuuri proudly “I said it, didn't I? You _belong_ here,” Yuuri couldn't even bring himself to glare at Phichit’s ‘I told you so’ face, because he was right. Skating was a part of him, as much as eating, sleeping and breathing were.

 

One thing was for sure, though. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep away for much longer. Not now he had given himself a taste of it.

 

“Come on, sleepyhead, let's head back,” Yuuri said at last as Phichit issued a stifled yawn. He tugged off his skates and looped his scarf around his neck again.

 

They left the rink shoulder to shoulder, happy smiles twinning their faces, the red and white jacket now nowhere to be seen.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it ~
> 
> Your kind words and comments are honestly the biggest motivator to keep the updates coming, so it would mean the world to me if you could share your thoughts once again.
> 
> Also [I'm on Tumblr](https://enjoleur-enjolras.tumblr.com/), so do come and say hi or drop me an ask if you have questions!
> 
> Stay tuned, kiddos. Till next time!


	3. Not That You'd Even Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOGME16Zn-g)

It had taken a few days for the disappointment to ebb away, but once it did it wasn’t too long before Yuuri found himself feeling a bit better. Worried? Yes. Stressed? Most definitely, but a lot more like his usual self again.

He mainly had skating to thank for that. Yuuri had been at the rink almost every night since his first time with Phichit, only unaccompanied from then on. When nobody else was around the ice was as good as his, and he made that known through every movement. He commanded it with every flip and jump, and it met him with that familiar glassy twinkle.

It felt _wonderful_.

How he had stayed away as long as he had was something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He gave himself over to the feeling each visit, heart and soul. With nobody else around he didn’t have to worry about being spotted or worse, laughed at. Nothing else seemed to matter when it was just him. He spared no thought for deadlines, no thought for Victor. In those moments only skating mattered.

He had agreed to take up shifts again at Nightline too. It hadn’t taken much convincing, really. ‘ _If you insist on being nocturnal’_ , Phichit had said ‘ _then you might as well do some good and field calls while you’re at it’._ Yuuri couldn’t even argue with his logic.

Some hours into his first evening back Yuuri answered a call to a voice he recognized instantly, one he’d all but forgotten from weeks past. Or rather, he had tried to forget.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Student Nightline Service, how can I help you?”

_“Is that you, Katsudon?”_

Yuuri had to pinch himself to rein in his delighted autopilot response, instead reverting to self-preservation mode, “Yes it is. Sorry, who is speaking?” He knew it was petty, a snide little move to show he cared just as little as Victor had, but it felt good all the same.

Victor’s voice came back sounding a little embarrassed, and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of sympathy nestled away in his chest, _“Oh, sorry I just- I’m Victor? We spoke a few times, a couple of weeks ago…”_ he trailed off, unguarded and fumbling as Yuuri had been at first.

“Ah yes, hello Victor. What can I help you with?”

 _“Well uh, I was actually just hoping we could chat for a bit,”_ came his response, sounding just as uncertain.

Yuuri blinked at this. What Victor stood to gain from aimless conversation he didn’t know, but he’d be kidding himself if he said he wasn’t curious.

“Whatever will help, Victor.” Yuuri had spoken to people like this before, and gentle chitchat could be exactly what a caller needed. Sometimes it worked as a nice icebreaker even; softening the mood enough to discuss anything that might be rooted a little deeper down.

Victor sighed in what sounded like relief, _“Okay. So how have you been, Katsudon? Bring me up to speed,”_ he said eagerly.

Yuuri couldn’t fight a snort of laughter.

 _“What’s so funny?”_ Victor sounded amused and Yuuri smiled, flushing at the inelegance of the sound he had made.

“Trying to steal my job I see,” Yuuri teased, though not unkindly.

 _“I don’t follow,”_ Victor sounded confused.

“You ring someone at a helpline and spend all your call time listening to their problems instead.”

 _“And what’s wrong with that?”_ Victor asked.

Yuuri shook his head, “there’s nothing wrong with it, Victor. It’s just not what I’m here for.”

 _“I know,”_ Victor sighed, _“But I don’t like running off at the mouth. At least, not all the time,”_ he added with a chuckle, _“I’d much sooner there be some balance. And I take it you could do with a listener too?”_

Yuuri smiled, “You know, this isn't usually the done thing here.”

 _“Then I’m happy to be the first to break tradition. And you still haven’t answered my question,”_ Victor prompted.

Yuuri hesitated, “You really want to know?”

_“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”_

“Okay…” Yuuri exhaled, “I’ve been busy, as per usual.”

_“Deadlines?”_

“Lots of them,” Yuuri agreed, “but I’ve got a pretty good outlet,” he admitted, smiling to himself. His own little private hobby.

 _“And what’s that?”_ The question brought Yuuri up short for a second. Victor sounded fascinated, but Yuuri didn’t feel like discussing skating with him again just yet. Their encounter at the side of the rink was still a sore spot for him, after all. _A commemorative photo…_

For all the disappointment he had felt, the incident had given Yuuri some much needed clarity. He knew now that just as he was both Yuuri and Katsudon, there were two different versions of Victor as well.

There was the private one, who reached out to an anonymous Yuuri while the world around them slept. Private Victor wanted a secret outlet for his fears and frustrations, a kind stranger to listen to, and Yuuri had been happy to learn that he fit the bill. They got on well, and Victor truly seemed to enjoy their time spent talking to one another, but that’s as far as it went. Their interactions were as infrequent as they were distant, however much they might open up to one another. Everything shared was done with the proviso of confidentiality. It wasn’t a case of trust, but of procedure.

Then there was the other one. Public Victor was the one in the flesh, the man everyone else got to see. Yuuri’s exposure to Victor was limited to his words and thoughts, disconnected and nothing to do with Yuuri himself though he listened like a friend. Yuuri meant nothing to this version of Victor. Their brief interaction weeks before had confirmed what Yuuri was already convinced of…

There was no place for the real Yuuri in the real Victor’s life.

“Oh, nothing important. Just getting out of the apartment mostly,” he mumbled bashfully, but Victor seemed satisfied with the answer.

 _“Well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll burn out if you overdo it too much,”_ Victor said and Yuuri scoffed.

“You sound like my friend.”

 _“The one who thinks you put too much pressure on yourself?”_ Victor asked and Yuuri hummed an affirmative, a little taken aback that Victor had remembered.

“He’s always mothering me, telling to take it easy,” Yuuri huffed, though it didn’t really bother him. Phichit always had his best interests in mind, even when Yuuri overlooked them. He made sure he ate, scolded him when he didn’t sleep, cuddled him when it all got too much. Yuuri couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

 _“Well it sounds like he’s talking sense. It can be difficult sometimes to see the damage you’re doing when it’s self-inflicted. It takes somebody else to point it out. That’s what friends are for, huh?”_ his voice had grown wistful, and Yuuri wondered who he was thinking about when he said that.

For now at least he was tired of the scrutiny. “Anyway, that’s more than enough about me. What about you, Victor?”

 _“What about me?”_ Victor said, clearly recognizing the change in topic for what it was. He had the good grace not to push it, though.

“How have you been? Your turn, go on,” Yuuri said in his best no-nonsense voice and he heard Victor laugh.

_“Same old, really. Work tedious, skating improving.”_

“That’s great!” Yuuri beamed “The skating that is. Why’s that then? What’s the cause?” Yuuri asked with interest. After all, skating was the issue that had first brought them together. Victor was born within the pull of the ice’s magnetic field, just as Yuuri was. Even if competitive skating had become stifling, the ice was where Victor Nikiforov belonged.

 _“It’s not so much what as…who,”_ Victor said slowly, choosing his words carefully.

Yuuri frowned, trying to puzzle out what he meant. He didn’t have to wonder for long though as Victor was soon speaking again.

 _“There’s somebody I’ve met recently. Well, uh,”_ Victor stammered. Yuuri guessed he was struggling to classify whatever relationship this was, _“Met is perhaps the wrong word. But I’ve been in contact with them before. They seem to keep to themselves but I think they’re special and… I want to get to know them properly. I want to know more about them,”_ he laughed, _“I don’t even know their name…”_

Yuuri’s thoughts froze. His heartbeat picked up a little as he allowed a timid hope to creep into his chest. Victor said he hadn’t met the person properly, but had made contact. He said they were reserved, but he wanted to know more about them… and then the final clue. He didn’t know their name. By the time his mind had run through all the evidence his heart was fluttering away, fast as a hummingbird.

Surely Victor couldn’t be referring to him, could he?

The line had grown quiet by now though, Victor clearly awaiting his response. Yuuri cleared his throat and spoke at last, “What have you talked about that’s been so helpful?” he asked, words cautious.

 _“See that’s just it…”_ Victor sighed, _“We’ve never actually spoken.”_

Ah.

There it was.

Disappointment clung to the air around him and not for the first time Yuuri found he was thankful for the distance between the two of them. If Victor’s eyes were on him now the mortification would only run all the deeper.

It could have been anyone Victor was talking about, he should have known that. Victor Nikiforov had a whole life outside of their phone calls, after all. And yet that tiny sliver of hope had still tucked itself away in the corner of Yuuri’s shadow, out of sight but ready to strike.

 _“Katsudon? Hello?”_ Victor’s voice sounded down the line with a static crackle and Yuuri swallowed down the emotions that had begun to bubble. Hearing the pseudonym he bit back a humorless laugh. He had a job to do, and nothing more. That was how it had been since the start. It was about time he settled into that knowledge, or next time he really would get hurt.

“Yes! Sorry, I was just thinking,” Yuuri explained a bit lamely.

 _“Everything alright?”_ Victor pressed, and an edge of worry could be heard in his tone that made Yuuri smile. It was a reminder that all wasn’t lost. He might never have Victor, but at moments like this the other man’s time and focus was his.

That alone would have to be enough.

 _“Yes, all fine. Go on then, tell me about this special someone,”_ he added a little jokingly, trying to diffuse his own tension.

To his credit Victor laughed, _“I’ve seen them skate several times, that’s how I know them,”_ he explained, and Yuuri ignored the spot of jealousy worming away at his thoughts. So they were a skater too.

“So it’s someone at the club? How haven’t you spoken before, then?” Yuuri asked, sounding incredulous. Victor was captain of the skate club, after all. It was his job to know his recruits, and he didn’t doubt that he had spoken at length with every one of them.

 _“No, no they aren’t in the club. Though they definitely ought to be,”_ Victor added, “ _They use the facilities but aren’t involved with the rest of us. I think they must know people there, though.”_

Yuuri listened with interest, thoughts trained on doing his job. It wasn’t surprising, really, that others used the rink out of hours. Yuuri never spent longer than two at a time there, after all.

 _“I came across them by chance the first time. My housemates can be a noisy bunch so I’m sometimes at the rink unusual hours when there's work to be done, and then_ they _showed up. The way they moved…”_ Victor’s words seemed to elude him as they trailed off, leaving behind no more than a hushed reverie _“It was like they weren’t in it for anything but the sheer joy of it. They didn’t care what anyone might think, moving how they wanted and letting their body go off instinct rather than design. It was beautiful. They were skating for their_ self _…”_

“They sound quite something…” Yuuri murmured, and he really meant it. Here was someone who had captured Victor’s interest, who he thought _beautiful_ , which was special in itself, but that wasn’t all. They sounded completely fearless. Unafraid of outsider opinion and unafraid of staying true to whom they were. Yuuri wished he could say the same thing for himself.

 _“I think so,”_ Victor agreed thoughtfully, _“I’ve seen them on a few occasions, since I’m often at the rink around that time anyway. I only wish I knew how to reach out.”_

“Have you tried talking to them?”

Victor’s silence spoke volumes.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Victor, but using words tends to be the done thing for getting to know a person,” Yuuri smirked, and Victor let out a dramatic exhale.

_“But what if they don’t want to talk to me?”_

“Why wouldn’t they?” Yuuri shot back.

 _“But what_ if? _”_ he persisted.

Yuuri shook his head with a smile, “Then they aren’t worth knowing, Victor.” _Their loss_ , he refrained from adding.

“…Okay,” Victor said, then again with a little more confidence “Okay, I’ll give it a go. Thanks, Katsudon.”

“Any time, Victor.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri managed to sleep through the night for the next few days, giving him no chance to make it over to the rink until Phichit next summoned him to spectate.

“Come and grab a seat in the stands late morning. We can grab some lunch when they let me go,” Phichit told him with a grin.

He had said it was a way to support his friend, but Yuuri knew Phichit better than that and was quick to clock his real motivations. He was slowly trying to assimilate him into the skate club. First he’d got him to the rink with no trouble weeks before, and into a rhythm of private practice. Next he had to get Yuuri comfortable skating with everyone else around. It was like releasing an animal from captivity, and something Yuuri found equal parts amusing and tiresome.

He still accepted the invite, of course, and by quarter to eleven he was sat a few rows up from the barrier watching the training as it progressed. It was midweek so the seats were mostly empty, but that didn’t stop Yuuri from keeping all the activity at arm’s length a few rows higher up.

He guessed it was a practice for the new recruits as he recognised many of the people present as new friends of Phichit’s. There were only three veterans of the club there that Yuuri could spot.

There was Coach Feltsman just beyond the barrier, flanked by his sulky son holding his hand. The small blonde’s eyes remained resolutely locked on the practice, captivated though he was still years too young to join in. Feltsman sat him down on a chair, withdrawing a tiger plush from the deep pockets of his coat and handing it to him with a ruffle of his hair before moving back to the opening of the rink. It seemed to satisfy the child as he worked its little front paw in a playful scratching motion.

Then there was the unofficial vice-captain Christophe Giacometti, arms folded as he got a younger skater to run a step sequence through for him to review apart from the rest of the group. When the other couldn’t seem to get the hang of it Giacometti repositioned himself behind him, hands on the boy’s hips as they slunk through the movements together with an intimacy that left Yuuri blushing.

It was over in the centre of the rink Yuuri that finally noticed Victor himself, and the sight nearly knocked the breath out of him. His mental image of the man had apparently begun to wear in the weeks of absence and, beyond all imagining, the one before him put the memory to shame. All eyes were on him and he beamed as he glided away on the ice, creating enough distance between him and his audience in preparation for a jump display. As he slid backward, however, he swung his body around...

And suddenly he was facing Yuuri’s section of the stands head on.

Plenty of other people were sat around him, but even so it somehow didn’t take Victor long to pick out his face. He could’ve sworn he saw Victor’s eyes widen a fraction, and Yuuri felt his chest tighten with nerves as his fear was confirmed.

Victor remembered their last encounter. Sure, there had to be a lot of fans stopping in to meet the university’s Living Legend, ones that were bound to blur together a little in his memory, but he seriously doubted many fled the man without so much as a squeak when prompted for a photo. Victor had thought he was a fan, and he had gone and reacted like an overwhelmed one.

He felt his leg jittering slightly and he slammed a hand down on it, fighting back the urge to turn tail a second time. Instead he sat frozen, waiting to see what the other man would do.

Victor cocked his head, seeming perplexed by something before he shook his head and smiled. Yuuri blinked, glancing over his shoulder to check if it was someone behind him that held the focus, wondering if he was reading this right. As if answering the unspoken question, Victor upgraded the smile to a wave, and Yuuri found his own hand lifting to offer a weak one back. Victor’s smile widened at this, and with that he turned and returned to his demonstration.

What had that look meant? And what prompted the wave? Yuuri’s first assumption had been simple acknowledgement. Victor had caught his gaze by chance and rather than turn a blind eye he had smiled and waved, a sign of recognition. A _greeting_. Perhaps even a desire to know him.

But that was just one interpretation. There was another, more dominant school of thought in Yuuri’s brain which reached an altogether different conclusion: that it had been a look of sympathy. Victor thought him a silly fan unable to string sentences together, remembered where he had failed to do just that week’s before, and his reaction this time had been born out of condescending kindness. Victor’s pity was the last thing he wanted, the thought alone enough to make his mind squirm.

These questions stuck with him all the way through his lunch with Phichit, still playing on his thoughts even as he lay awake in bed that night. Though he got no further towards unpicking this mystery, he did form one conclusion, allowing himself to drift off with that resolve as his final conscious thought.

He wasn’t about to let Victor make him feel small again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delay on this chapter, guys! I never meant for it to take this long, but I had something of a crisis of confidence with my writing ability that made me keep delaying for a while there. We're back on track now though.
> 
> If you could see your way to leaving a comment or any thoughts about this chapter I'd be ever so grateful - it makes my day reading what all you lot have to say about each chapter!
> 
> Also [I'm on Tumblr](https://enjoleur-enjolras.tumblr.com/), so do come and say hi or drop me an ask if you have questions!
> 
> See you next level, my lovelies!


	4. Can't You See?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0iMcGmLt9s)

“Stop it."

“Stop what?” Phichit asked a little too quickly, and Yuuri shot him a knowing look.

“I can hear your thoughts from here. Stop worrying about me.”

When Phichit had shown up on his doorstep Wednesday evening with blankets and takeout Yuuri hadn’t questioned it. When his friend had stayed for the remainder of the week, however, he had started to ask questions. Phichit had claimed his own flat was too noisy to get any work done, but Yuuri had a different suspicion.

Now Phichit wrinkled his nose at the accusation, shrugging and looking back at the crossword puzzle in his lap, “I don’t know what you mean” he muttered as he scribbled in twelve across.

Yuuri just sighed, rolling off the bed and padding across the room to grab his laptop. He didn’t say as much, but he was thankful for Phichit’s company. Phichit had always had the uncanny ability of knowing when Yuuri needed to not be alone, even if Yuuri didn’t register the need himself. They looked out for each other, in that same wordless exchange of affection.

He sat back down beside him and petted his friend’s hair fondly “Six across… ‘Take No Risks’. 4, 4,” Phichit asked, changing the subject.

“Play Safe,” Yuuri said and watched as Phichit wrote it in, striking through the clue with a satisfied hum.

“All done!” Phichit beamed, “Only took me an hour.” He’d looked up every other clue, but Phichit wasn’t a stickler for the finer details. Now he looked across to Yuuri, “I know you must get sick of me asking this…”

“Am I okay?” Yuuri guessed, and Phichit nodded abashed. Yuuri just smiled, “I’m fine Phichit, honestly. Surviving.”

Phichit nodded, but his worry didn’t quite seem to clear, “You would tell me if you weren’t, right? If something was wrong...”

“You’d be the first to know, Phichit.”

“Okay,” Phichit said, appearing satisfied with this answer as he glanced at the clock “I should probably leave you to it then. Message me tomorrow, okay? When your seminar is finished” he said standing.

Yuuri watched him button up his coat and walked him to the door, pausing to pick up the newspaper “Hey, don’t forget this,” he said holding it out, but Phichit shook his head.

“Keep it. You need it more than me.”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri frowned.

“Six across, Yuuri. Don’t let it be you, okay?” he smiled, waving as he headed off into the night.

Once his friend was out of sight Yuuri glanced down at the answer in block capitals once more.

P L A Y S A F E

That wasn’t what he was doing… was it?

 

* * *

 

It was pitch black besides the harsh glow of the fluorescent lighting when Yuuri showed up at the skate club the following night. He was wide awake, his biological clock having long since adjusted to the new routine by now. Gone were the days when he had to fuel himself with caffeine just to keep his eyes open as the minutes ticked.

He stepped out onto the rink and pushed off into the middle of the vast expanse of white, smiling at the familiar slide and friction underfoot as he span lazily in a figure of eight.

When he felt ready he stilled, trying to conjure up a melody in his mind. Ah, he had just the thing. His feet began to move with the memory, and Yuuri allowed them to track whatever path felt the most natural without thought beyond the music. He didn’t know what story he was telling, but somehow his body did without that knowledge. He whirled and threw his back into a dramatic arch, lifting himself upright and propelling himself into a jump a few beats later.

So swept up in the movement he was that he must have misjudged the footing, and the next thing he felt was the cold scrape of the ice against his palms as he keeled over with a thud. He checked himself over quickly, and finding nothing broken or out of place he stood, dusting himself off to have another go.

“You’ll gain a lot more speed and control going into the crossover if you close with your free leg on that jump,” someone said, to which Yuuri whipped his head round… and froze. Across the barrier stood Victor Vikiforov, wearing a long tan jacket and a friendly smile. He wasn’t sure how the man managed to appear more dazzling each time Yuuri looked away, but he possessed the slightly maddening skill nonetheless.

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed, wondering what on earth he was doing here at this hour. Then again he had wondered the same thing when their call first connected all those weeks ago. Either way he chose not to question it. Instead he tried transition into the crossover again, this time following the other man’s advice. The movement was quicker and cleaner, just as Victor had said.

“Uh, thanks,” Yuuri mumbled as slid closer to the barrier, not sure what to say exactly but not wanting to seem rude.

“How come I haven’t seen you at practice before? You’re more than capable,” Victor asked, sounding so sure of himself, head cocked in wonder.

Yuuri shrugged, looking away to avoid his watchful stare, unsure of what answer to give. Victor nodded sympathetically. He seemed to get the picture.

“Would you mind if I sat and watched you for a while? I’d really like to. I might be able to offer a few tips, if you like,” Victor offered kindly, and Yuuri withdrew from the barrier with a frown.

“But why?” Yuuri asked, baffled. Victor laughed, offering up a shrug in response.

“Everyone has room for improvement, don’t they? Just because you don’t want to skate in front of a group of strangers doesn’t mean a little advice wouldn’t go amiss, wouldn’t you say?” he said smiling.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, “Just one stranger rather than a group of them, then?”

Victor’s face seemed to flash with disappointment for a second before he schooled it back into a smile, one that looked… hopeful? Yuuri couldn’t for the life of him work out why.

“I suppose so. We don’t have to be strangers, though… if you’d like?” Victor said at last, slowly. Carefully, it seemed. His eyes were intent on Yuuri’s, as if searching for something.

Yuuri blinked as he processed the offer. Was it even an offer? If there was some cryptic implication behind Victor’s words, it was one that Yuuri couldn’t quite follow.

And then he remembered Victor’s words during a phone conversation once, and it clicked.

_We’d love to have another seasoned skater in the ranks._

Of course the team captain wanted newcomers, and he had reached the conclusion that Yuuri might fit the bill.

Yuuri, however, had other ideas. He liked things as they were, at the dead of night in the silence of the stadium. He had freedom to skate how he wanted, to imagine he was capable of anything. He had enough expectations weighing him down as he went about his studies as it was. Skating was his escape, and the skate club didn’t correlate with that.

But something else Victor had said was right too. Everyone has room for improvement, he had just told him. While competition and judgement from others was something Yuuri shied away from, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to challenge himself. After all he knew Victor, in a sense. He knew at least that Victor was an open-minded man, and one who cared. If somebody like that was willing to coach him, surely that couldn’t be such a bad thing?

“You can watch me for a while; give me advice if you like. But that’s all,” Yuuri said firmly, not wanting Victor to get the wrong idea. He wasn’t interested in recruitment, so if that was Victor’s game here then he had to make that much clear. He would say it as many times as he needed to.

Victor sighed and nodded in understanding, as if he had already known what he was about to hear. Yuuri smiled, and took off into the centre again to run an old step sequence that had been playing on his mind. Victor remained silent for a while, but eventually he began calling out tips, moving around the barrier with Yuuri as he followed each new direction his skating took.

Eventually Yuuri began to tire and started towards the exit to unlace his skates. Victor leant back against the barrier facing him as he watched the process keenly “You’re really something, you know,” he murmured, and Yuuri looked up in surprise. Their gaze locked for a minute, charged with something Yuuri couldn’t quite place. And then Yuuri went back to his laces, trying to untangle his thoughts away from the scrutiny of those confusingly pretty blue eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he mumbled shyly, forcing his feet back into his trainers as quickly as he could manage. The longer he stuck around, the more chance there was of him saying something he would later regret. Victor’s interest was simply professional, and he had to honour that.

“Would you mind if I came by again? I could be your unofficial coach, if you’d like,” Victor laughed. Yuuri looked up at him at this, and if he didn’t know any better Yuuri would think he sounded nervous. Yuuri watched him cautiously for a moment before answering with a hesitant nod.

“Okay… if you’d like,” he smiled shyly, digging his hands deep in his pockets and kicking the toe of his shoe against the ground. Victor flashed him an earnest beam in response. _More dazzling still_ , Yuuri thought absently.

“You’ll be here the day after next, won’t you?” Victor asked and Yuuri nodded bemused. Lucky guess, he supposed. Victor nodded, and seemed to think for a second before he next spoke “Great. I’ll see you then,” he stood still, watching as Yuuri slung his kit bag over one shoulder.

“See you then,” Yuuri repeated smiling as he turned to leave but a tap on the shoulder stopped him, glancing back to find a more serious expression waiting there.

“If you change your mind, by the way...”

“Hm?”

Victor laughed under his breath, shaking his head and pulling his hand back. It wasn’t a happy sound, “Never mind. Good night then,” he smiled. 

Yuuri waved awkwardly and turned to leave as a blush began to rise in his cheeks, disappearing out of sight of Victor who still hadn’t moved.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri didn’t have to wait long for his most anticipated caller the following night, the notification reaching him only minutes after his shift began.

_“Katsudon, that you?”_

“Hello, Victor. Everything okay?” Yuuri asked frowning. He definitely sounded different, edgy somehow.

_“Yes and no, I guess?”_

Yuuri sat forward in his seat, worry mounting, “What’s the matter? Do you want to talk about it?”

Victor sighed down the line, the sound catching with a crackle of static, _“If you wouldn’t mind?”_

“That’s what I’m here for.”

 _“…It’s that person I was telling you about,”_ Victor said, and Yuuri’s face fell a bit.

“The one you met at the skate club?”

_“Mm. I tried reaching out to them, like you said.”_

“And?”

Another sigh, _“They rebuffed me.”_

Yuuri blinked in surprise, and felt a little twinge of jealousy in his chest. Who in their right mind would say no to Victor’s advances? “What did you say to them, exactly?” he asked curiously.

 _“I asked if they wanted to get to know each other better. They were pretty clear they weren’t interested,”_ Victor sounded so sad, it hurt to hear. Then he heard a chuckle, _“Sorry, Katsudon, This is all a bit ‘woe is me’, isn’t it?”_

“No! It’s fine, Victor. If it upset you then it upset you. You shouldn’t ignore your feelings, even the bad ones.”

_“I suppose so… I’m going to try to help them.”_

“With skating, you mean?” Yuuri asked.

_“Mm,” Victor hummed in agreement, “If they’ll let me. I’d like to try and be friends at least, and if I can show them who I am then maybe they’ll consider it?”_

“Well as long as you don’t let them hurt you,” Yuuri said firmly. Victor's disappointment was hard for him to hear, and the knowledge that he could only do so much to remedy the situation frustrated him to no end. So he resigned himself to comforting, and hoping.

Whoever they were, Yuuri hoped they deserved him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again!! It's taken longer to write this chapter than I intended but I've been working on my new YOI fic 'Gambles of the Heart', so I hope that's a consolation. Two Victuuri stories is better than one, hopefully!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for all your kind words on the previous chapter too- hearing your thoughts and ideas honestly makes this so worthwhile. I'm sure a lot of you are tearing your hair out over how dumb and oblivious these boys are being right now, but I promise they will get their shit together in the end! Just sit tight, gang.
> 
> Till next time, darlings! Hope you enjoyed ~

**Author's Note:**

> And away we go! I don't know quite how many chapters long this fic will end up being, but I'll add it when I have a better idea.
> 
> If anyone is interested, the title of the fic is taken from Hanging On The Telephone by Blondie. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I'd really love to hear what you think, so please drop me a comment or leave kudos if you feel so inclined :-)
> 
> Take care, and happy fandoming!
> 
> Frankie ~
> 
> ([I'm also on Tumblr!](https://enjoleur-enjolras.tumblr.com/))


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